


The Aftermath Of A Break-Up

by afteriwake



Series: nongentorum [64]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bad Decisions, Break Up, Decisions, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Drunk Molly, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Molly Hooper Appreciation Week 2017, Molly Hooper Loved Tom, Molly Hooper Loves Sherlock Holmes, Molly's Thoughts, Moving On, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, POV Molly Hooper, Past Molly Hooper/Tom - Freeform, Sad Molly, Thoughts On Cheating, Tom Moved Out, determined Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9784976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be that she was with someone. Maybe it was best if, for a while, she focused on just loving herself and stopped making such bad decisions in the name of love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first (so very late) entry for Day 4 of Molly Hooper Appreciation Week Part Deux (Feels Like ___). Molly's going through a whole mess of emotions in this fic, which is what made it so much fun to write. It was inspired by the quote “ _'I have to come to the conclusion that maybe I am truly not meant for anyone. Maybe, just maybe, I am meant for myself.'_ ” by **ohnatalierose** on Tumblr.

_“No, it was my fault for thinking that you might care.”_

She eyed the empty glass of wine and considered filling it again but in the end decided against it. Would have been her third. Fourth? Fifth? Could have been her nine hundredth for all she knew. She knew that Sherlock already thought she had a bit of a problem with the drink, coming to _her_ for advice on how he and John should get liquored up for John’s stag night. Not that she did, but practical experience? She had it.

Too many nights like tonight led to that practical experience. Unfortunately. Would have been better if it had been more nights of celebration rather than commiseration of another relationship down the tubes but...so was her lot in life.

She looked at her left hand, empty now. He’d wanted it back. Course he had. Hadn’t been an heirloom or anything, but no, she couldn’t keep it. Couldn’t keep anything that meant anything, keep anything that was special. And really, it was tacky to ask for it back. It had been a gift, a gift given with love, and to ask for it back had been tacky. Tacky Tom. Almost as funny a nickname as Sherlock’s favourite, Meat Dagger.

Oh, fuck it. Wine it was.

Sherlock wasn’t entirely blameless in this. Using her flat as his bolthole. Wanting her room. Timing it so he arrived before Tom, swanning around in his dressing gown or pyjamas, or worse, just his boxers. And yes, maybe she didn’t fancy him _as much_ , maybe she loved Tom more, but damn it all, the man still had some hold over her. And Tom wasn’t an idiot, despite Sherlock’s opinions to the contrary. If she and Tom had gotten married, Sherlock would be the wedge between them. Always and forever. And no man in their right mind would put u with another man in his marriage bed, her grandmum always said.

So Tom just let Sherlock have the bed.

And...so did she.

Nothing had _happened_ between them. God no, she wasn’t a cheater. She loved Sherlock, she could admit that, but she loved Tom too and she wasn’t about to shag Sherlock no matter how often he pranced around her home in his skivvies. But she let him talk her into her room, let him worm his way into her home and run roughshod over her, and she really made no move to stop him. And Tom...well, all Tom did was say he needed a break. Needed some space.

Space that, tonight, became permanent.

She gulped the wine down, not caring that it made her look like a drunkard, and leaned back into the sofa. It hadn’t taken Tom long to collect his things from her home. He’d never really kept much there, which should have been telling. What had made it all worse was how often he had picked something up and she’d had to say no, it wasn’t his, and she could see his jaw twitch ever so slightly because it wasn’t hers, either, and they both knew it. She’d allowed another man to come between them, and friend or not, it had been her choice.

Maybe she had cheated without realizing it. Maybe it made her a shite person. It wasn’t physical; she’d never touched Sherlock, never held him, never kissed him, certainly never shagged him, but he held a part of her heart Tom could never have hoped to have. Maybe that was worse than a physical affair.

Maybe she should have cut herself off after one bloody glass.

Or fuck it, maybe she should drink until her hangover rivaled the one she had on her eighteenth birthday, when her future had been bright and shining and full of promise.

How far away that seemed now.

She stared at the glass, looking into the depths of the dark red liquid as though they held the answers to life itself. Maybe it was time she stopped living for others. Or living for others love, she supposed. She had grown so much over the years, to have been able to set her feelings for Sherlock aside enough to try something with Tom. But it hadn’t been enough. _Maybe_ she needed to...she didn’t know, love herself a bit more first? Love herself _fully_ first? Make herself her priority for a change.

Maybe she wasn’t meant for anyone, not really. Maybe, she was simply meant for herself.

And maybe that wasn’t an altogether bad thing. 

She drank the last of the wine in the glass, slowly but without stopping, and then with her new reserve corked the bottle again and went to put it in the wine cooler. Enough of that. Time to make changes. Changes for the better. Changes that would make her happy and fuck all to anyone who tried to stop her. She deserved happiness, on her own terms, even if it meant she had to find it while being alone. She would, and she would enjoy it, and then, if she decided that it was worth the trouble and headache, she’d see about sharing it with someone else. But only when _she_ decided to, and on _her terms_.

It was time she gave herself as much love as she had given others and never had returned. And she would be damned if she didn’t deserve every ounce of it.


End file.
